


Home for the Holidays

by overworkedunderwhelmed



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Feels, Interfering Friends, Post-World War II AU, Slow Burn, holiday feels, introspective, moving forward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:35:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overworkedunderwhelmed/pseuds/overworkedunderwhelmed
Summary: The re-institution of peace in the world left many struggling to find their place in the world they returned home to.  Many moved on in the best way they knew how.But some require an extra little push to take those first steps forward -- to make a home for the men and women they had become.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks go out to BookedbyFandoms for being a total sweetheart and beta reading for me.
> 
> I have a realities goall of finishing this piece around Christmas, but it may be somewhat later for participation in TFSN's Secret Santa. I'll do my best, but I can make no guarantees.

Jemma stood up and stretched, taking one weary glance at her before deciding against kneading the now sore muscles of her neck just yet. She’d spent the better part of the last three hours hunched over her journal of notes, putting her thoughts and theories into concise order. Cryptography was such a beneficial field, even the with the War finally at an end. Even Peggy had agreed and had pressed her new agency into helping to publish her finished work...once she got that far.

Heading to the sink, she scrubbed as much of the ink away as she could. Her time in the War office would not just be a fleeting memory. She had theories and practices that had percolated over those few, harrowing years. She couldn’t take any of the documents home as they were property of the British Government, but she could use that knowledge for good. There was no telling what the future would bring. There had already been two major wars in such a short span of time and it was driving the technology forward with incredible speed.

She and her peers in the war office had proven women were more than wives, mothers, and assistants. But how quick the men who managed to return home had been to forget that fact. So many of the women she had worked with willingly fell back into those roles. 

Even now, only a select few were willing to help her with the project. She had plans to lunch with one of them tomorrow who had settled down but was still very dedicated to the cause.

Her own mother was pressing her to settle down at nearly every opportunity. It was as if the happier tide with the end of the war made every potential grandparent want grandchildren nearly as fast as nature allowed them to come. This project was one of the few things keeping her mother at bay, and to be entirely truthful, was part of why she was taking the time to be so thorough. Her mother at least understood her drive to finish a job properly. She had at least until the holidays to enjoy a bit of peace before her Mum would inevitably start to ask again.

She pressed her head against the chilled pane of glass to quell the growing headache that was slowly making itself known. With a bit of effort, she was able to push her focus on the whistle of the draft blowing around the edges of the decades-old window. At least she had the daylight hours for relative peace and quiet. 

For these next precious few weeks, she’d just have to keep busy and humor her very well-meaning roommate. Daisy worked at a giant department store in the heart of town with a bunch of American ex-pats and kept trying to send men in her general direction. They were mostly quite nice, if a bit boring. Certainly, no one who was worth the risk of giving up her priorities.

Daisy had sworn her to secrecy -- not that she was venturing out into this cold much -- that they were planning some sort of amazing decorations for Christmas to help drive in business. She’d seen the diagrams and heard that they should be going up in the next few days.

The view from their little apartment would be lovely, assuming one could tolerate the solid draft that rattled the window casing.

Jemma sighed, taking one last, lingering stretch before turning back to her seat and settling in back in her chair. 

At least that would be something to look forward to.

* * *

Fitz was balanced precariously on the window washer trolley to test a first strand of lights, one hand gripping the rail for balance. He’d had to rig up some extra insulation to get the cord to clear through the window and not leave the chill of icy cold wind rushing through.

Even now, the chill bit through his gloves and scarf, far worse several stories up than it had been on the ground. His fingers could scarcely move, let alone tug down the cap that was covering his curls to brace against the cold. He had a hard enough time tugging the rope that lead up to the bell that would hail him to be hauled back up to the roof.

But...it was far from the worst he had been through.

He had returned home at first, but after it all, the silence grew deafening. He needed to keep busy, as he had during the War itself. When he was still, the memories crept in. Much though he loved his Mum, she had grown all too weary of him taking every scrap of electronics to pieces. The house’s wiring was now up to every code in the books, but he was sure the constant activity -- and the constant tinkering with the radio -- had started to drive her a bit batty.

When Hunter had mailed about a challenging opportunity, he had to admit that he hadn’t quite expected to end up suspended on a rickety platform thirty some odd feet up in the air above the downtown. He looked downward, scanning the ground for a familiar face, before a wave of vertigo sent him reeling himself backwards against the brick. 

He slammed his eyes shut, forcing his brain to silence the temporary panic and find some way out of this. If not for the fact that the strand of lights were working, he would think that someone had shut off the power. Maybe the crank at the top was on another circuit? He’d have to check later.

Where the hell was Hunter? He was supposed to reel him back up to the window above, so he could get back inside safely.

* * *

Jemma’s stomach gave up the fight soon enough, though she did manage to make some good progress. She’d spared herself just a few minutes to cobble together a quick sandwich and a cup of tea, fully intending to return to the train of thought from where she left it when a glimmer of light caught her eye.

Someone was awfully brave -- or quite foolhardy -- to be out there in this windy weather.

She took a sip of tea, frowning as the light blinked out. Then it blinked again. And again.

Jemma’s brows arched in recognition, her eyes mimicking them as the familiar thrill of horror chasing down her spine. 

Her teacup clattered to the floor as she dashed out her door to the apartment floor’s single shared telephone line.


	2. Sending out an SOS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to fitzsimmonsavengers and AGL03 for their help in beta-reading this chapter.
> 
> More notes follow the end of the chapter.

Fitz eclipsed the strand of lights he’d wound around his right arm behind his left coat sleeve, sending off letters one by one in sequence. He must have sent out SOS distress calls about ten times already, and the arm that he was moving already ached from the exertion and he did not dare move his other arm from its solid hold on the rail. Someone was bound to notice eventually.

It was far too windy to actually be able to do more than shout down to the nearly empty London streets and hope someone would hear and stop to help. Enough people had been on the continent in the war that there would at least be a few hundred people who could recognize the signal pattern. If they could see to help.

Tightening his grip on the rail behind him, Fitz swallowed, willing himself to keep from looking down again. He’d have to let his arm rest a bit before he tried again. It wouldn’t do to wear himself out and then be stuck out here for however long it took. Hopefully, Coulson might take pity on him and let him come in a few hours late.

Coughing miserably, Fitz rubbed his arm with his free hand, struggling to keep warm. He glanced up to the roof, hoping rather than assuming that someone would be there this time. It wouldn’t do for him to be outside in this cold for much longer. He made up his mind to yell at Hunter later. After he was warm and inside and on decidedly firmer ground and possibly after Hunter bought him a pint or six.

But one thing was perfectly clear to his mind: Hunter would never be able to talk him into coming up here again. He would plan the whole bloody design, but Hunter would have to put up the whole set of decorations himsel--.

Fitz blinked, scanning the horizon. He could swear he saw something flicker from the corner on his eye. Eyes narrowing, focusing in on a lamp in the window across the way, smiling as the light flickered out again.

* * *

Jemma cut the lamp off in sequence, letting the duration of the flashed light spell out her confirmation of the message in morse code. 

“I got your message. Notice the light.”

She felt the inclination to pace, but settled for tapping her toe in place, as she did not dare leave. The poor man had already been out there for some time, and she would only be anxious until he was safely back inside the building. The least she could do was keep him occupied until help actually arrived.

“Please.”

Her nails skated over the lampshade, as she wondered if she ought to send the message again when the response finally came. 

_Roger._

Exhaling, Jemma could practically feel the tension leave her shoulders. She couldn’t help but smile as she set about messaging him back, her book obscuring the lamp light in sequence as she telegraphed the letters across the night. _Help incoming._

She didn’t have to wait long for his response. 

_Thank you. Was not sure how long I’d be out here._

Jemma smiled as the letters formed, glad to be able to put her somewhat rusty morse code skills to good use. _Glad to help._

The silence was actually agonizing, even considering it was not her out in the cold. But it seemed he had suddenly gone quiet. Biting her lip, she opted to keep him talking until his rescuers appeared. _Where did you serve?_

_How can you tell?_

Jemma wasted no time in her reply. _Your speed. No lag between letters._

_Friend in the radio room. Lots of time to be bored on ship. Wasn’t one to go off and--_

The signalling cut off there. Squinting, her eyes scanned the nearby windows and roof.

* * *

He was still waving a message towards his rescuer when he heard Coulson shout, halting as his eyes searched out the sound. “I know I told you to get out more, Fitz, but this really wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Fitz gripped the rails tighter as he tilted back as far as he dared to shout back. “I hadn’t exactly planned to be out on my own either. Don’t really know where Hunter got off to.”

Daisy, one of the few friendly girls who minded the shopping sections, stood with Coulson and had the oddest smile on her face as she peered over the roof. 

Coulson, on the other hand, frowned as he looked backwards. “Not sure how much I can help bring you up with this bum hand of mine. It looks like the crank might be broken.”

“If Hunter went for help, he might have been...waylaid.” Daisy cautioned, loud enough for him to hear these few floors down. “I know he had a visitor stop by my floor earlier.”

Fitz was certain that Coulson was fighting off a smirk. “Which would explain the current predicament. Daisy, could you go and grab Mack and have him bring up his tools as well?”

“Sure thing.”

* * *

Daisy flew down the stairwell. She’d have to hurry to find Mack, but if she managed to run into Hunter on the way, all the better. He definitely needed to get an earful. 

Fitz was one of the nicest guys who worked in this building -- not to mention one of the few she had yet to convince to take her roommate out on a date. It might have already happened weeks ago if Jemma hadn’t decided to be so stubborn. 

Daisy rolled her eyes as she approached the administrative offices. Her roommate was so convinced that she was trying to get her married off, and not just out of the house and meeting new people. The girl needed a break from her pet project. They all had spent so many years, working so hard to ensure they survived the nightmare. What was the point if they didn’t get to enjoy life a little, too?

She scanned the now empty rows of desks of the administrative offices for any sign of either Mack or Hunter, but it appeared that nearly everyone had headed home for the night. She had to hope that Mack might be working on a floor display down in the showroom.

Daisy started to run down the empty hall. There was no one to shout and keep her from doing so, but her heels weren’t exactly ideal. All it took was one awkward step to knock the heel loose. She floundered, catching her weight on the wall. Cursing into the empty hall, Daisy leaned down and tugged off her broken heel. She could run barefoot if she had to. Coulson and Fitz were counting on her.

It was just lucky that Jemma had been watching and called her, otherwise who knows how long Fitz would be stuck out on the side of the building. Luckily, Jemma did.

Her eyes widened in realization as she rounded the corner to the stairwell. Jemma _had_ been watching. And Fitz had been waving out to whomever would notice. Perhaps things weren’t nearly so hopeless for her roommate after all. Or for Fitz.

The door to the stairwell creaked open somewhere below her and she leaned down to peek and immediately regretted doing so. Well, on the positive side, she had found Hunter. And, she couldn’t see much from this vantage point.

“--don’t have much time.”

“I’m sure we can make do.”

Daisy coughed loudly, moving away from the steps. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

The awkward silence was filled with the soft rustle of cloth.

“Daisy?” Hunter shouted up the steps, a thread of tension clear in his voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” Daisy countered, “but I know where you are also supposed to be right now.”

Hunter ran up the steps with Bobbi right behind him. He gaped at Daisy as he continued to fix his tie. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you seem to have forgotten where you left Fitz.”

Hunter goggled, uttering a curse not entirely under his breath. “Sorry. I’ll be back.” Sending a quick apologetic glance in Bobbi’s direction, he darted up the steps.

“Tell Coulson I still haven’t found Mack yet.” Daisy shouted up after him.

Bobbi had her arms crossed, watching Hunter move up the steps for a few floors before turning to Daisy. “What did he do?”

“He left Fitz outside on a window washer lift,” Daisy was matter of fact. Bobbi was certainly tough enough to handle it.

Bobbi winced slightly. “That...might actually be partly my fault. I think he was looking for Mack when I found him earlier.”

Daisy pulled off her other shoe, wiggling her stockinged toes on the cold floor. “Any idea where he was headed?”

Bobbi nodded. “The old stock room on the third floor.”

“Let’s go find him.”

Bobbi lead the way. “Any idea how long Fitz was outside?”

Daisy shrugged, being deliberately vague. “I’m not really sure. We got a call from someone who saw him outside waving for help.”

Bobbi sighed, shaking her head and clearly wondering about her husband as they walked. “I’ll have to remind Hunter to take Fitz out for a drink on the weekend. Maybe for a few weeks, honestly.”

“He just looked a bit cold and understandably anxious about the height.” Daisy reassured her. Although…”

Bobbi watched her carefully, prompting, “Although?”

“It’s just,” Daisy hedged, studiously avoid Bobbi’s eyes as they neared the stockroom. The taller woman always seemed to be able to read everyone else far too easily, and this all would never work if Jemma suspected she was behind it all. “May is throwing a big Thanksgiving gathering for all of the fellow expatriates in my boarding house. Hunter already shot me down when I offered, but Fitz is never one to turn down food. He just won’t go to something like that on his own.”

“I can certainly remind him how much he owes Fitz. Besides,” Bobbi smirked, “if you don’t mind one more at the table, I could come along and make sure that both of them attend.”

Daisy beamed, entirely too pleased with herself. “I’m sure May won’t mind, especially if you also bring something to eat.”

* * *

“Do you think the design will need to be fixed?”

Fitz scratched the lingering stubble at his chin, steadying himself with the metal rails. Looking up was still making him a bit dizzy, even with the extra rope around his waist to ensure he didn’t fall. “I might have made a few adjustments to make the angles just right, but we should be able to get everything in place within the next few days.”

Coulson nodded. “Well, once we get you up, I think you can safely avoid coming back out here for a good, long while.”

“That would be nice, sir.”

When Coulson looked back to the roof, Fitz took the opportunity to peer back over his shoulder to see if his rescuer had sent any other messages. With Coulson chatting at him, it was little tricky to send a furtive reply back. Besides, if there was anyone of his acquaintance who knew Morse Code, it was probably Coulson. 

At least he could send off a _Thank you_ without arousing too much suspicion. He waved his arms before second guessing the decision. He was assuming that his rescuer was still watching. Surely even the rescuer had moved on to the dinner table by now.

“Fitz?” Hunter’s booming voice echoed into the air above. “‘M sorry. You alright, mate?”

Fitz sighed. “I’ll be better once I get off this bloody thing.”

“Coulson and I are working on it now.” Hunter peered over the edge briefly, as if to reassure himself that he was actually still stuck out here. “Daisy and Bob went down to track down Mack. We’ll have you back on the ground soon as we can.”

Fitz nodded, and peered back over his shoulder. Sooner would be better. He could do without the cold, and the height. Except for the the fact that it would have been nice to keep chatting with the rescuer, he was ready to leave this second. 

He hadn’t expected another flash of light.

_Hope you are safe on the ground soon._

His eyes widened and he replied instantly, without any thought for Coulson or Hunter. He could only hope they were occupied and not watching him wave like an idiot _Should be soon now. Thank you again._

_Good night._

Fitz smiled as the light faded from the darkening window, hoping that Coulson and Hunter worked faster to bring him in from the cold.

* * *

Jemma ate in the near darkness, watching as the strand of lights flickered into the darkness.

May’s kitchen staff had been hard at work earlier, but the food was already quite cold in the time it took to bring it back up to the room. She winced, pressing herself to finish the whole of her plate, even considering the the vegetables were slightly less palatable than usual. She only had to promise the cook one of her grandmother’s excellent biscuit recipes in order to sneak out of the kitchen and avoid any questions. Perhaps she should have offered some tips on the vegetables instead.

The man on the side of the building seemed determined to do it on his own. But she was equally stubborn, if not more so. Jemma needed to know all was well for her own peace of mind. 

She supposed that she could always wait until Daisy returned home, but she'd rather not encourage Daisy’s inclination to match her up with every man she knew. The poor man had already gone through enough tonight. He clearly didn’t need the full force of Daisy’s machinations added into the mix.

A lantern had appeared up on the side, casting a glow on the few stories separating the trolley from the top. The fact that Daisy was still away and lights were still on up on the roof meant the man on the trolley was probably still out, but help had arrived on the scene.

* * *

Luckily, Fitz did not have to wait for long, although it felt to him that the temperature must have dropped another few degrees. The cold was cramping up his fingers and he was already shivering. At least once he could hear Daisy, Bobbi, and Mack’s voices added to those on the roof, they had a plan ready to carry out. 

Mack had clearly carried up every tool they might need, including a good, long length of rope. Daisy was slowly lowering that down the edge of the building to him, while Bobbi held the lantern.

“Do you have it?”

“Yeah.” Fitz had never been more glad that that he already knew far more than he had ever wanted to know about tying effective knots during his time in the service. This would not be the best time to learn. He wound the length around him to fashion a harness and triple checked the tension on each knot before answering. “I’m ready.”

The joint effort of Mack, Coulson, Hunter, Bobbi, and Daisy meant the platform, now humming with the vibration from the crank, was hauled up the last few floors quickly and Hunter and Daisy were ready to help him back from the roof’s edge and into the building with all possible haste.

Coulson pushed them all inside. “We’ll get the rest of this re-settled in the morning. “We need to get you all warmed up.” 

“And a drink,” Hunter whispered, offering his arm to help keep him steady. “To help with that.”

His teeth still chattering, Fitz could only nod. his legs were stiff but still managed to navigate the steps down well, if more slowly than normal. He would be happy enough to head right home and into bed to warm up, but all eyes were on him. Fitz had a feeling that he would not be left alone until he had reassured them all he would be fine.

It was going to be a long evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am far less certain that I will meet my goal of getting the final chapter finished for the actual holidays between this and one other time sensitive project and all the actual real life craziness of the holidays. Hopefully no one minds a winter holiday fic finishing in January or February (hopefully)!


End file.
